The Novels of the Jaran (265 page)

“From my Aunt Tess, although she isn’t really that good. I played certain travelers, scholars, merchants, whomever I could find who came to Sarai, and others, out with the army.”

“You traveled with the army?”

She lifted her gaze and smiled, not kindly, right at him. “I fought in Yaroslav Sakhalin’s army for two years, my lord. I have killed many khaja men, those who thought they could win against the power of the jaran armies. They could not.”

He laughed, not quite believing her. “Surely a princess of your line would be married by now.”

“I have been spared that, at least.”

He leaned toward her over the table, his fingers reaching for her sleeve, which she swept out of his grasp. “Is it true that you rode with the army?”

“Of course! Most young women serve for two or three years as archers. After that, most of them go back to the tribes to marry.”

He stood up so abruptly that his wine cup tipped over, but he had drained it dry and nothing spilled out. For the first time he looked agitated. He paced to one of the window loops and stopped with his back to her. “So you could have shot me, there in the church of Urosh Monastery?”

“I could have. Princess Rusudani stayed my hand. That is the only reason you aren’t dead now.”

He turned back. Jaelle could no longer read the expression on his face, but it disturbed her. He walked out of the room without saying anything more.

Katerina stared after him for a time. Then she bit her lip and began to rearrange the pieces, back to their starting points. “Do you want to learn to play, Jaelle?”

“You should let him win, Lady Katherine.”

Katerina folded her hands thoughtfully on the table, gazing first at the board and then up at Jaelle. “I don’t think he’s the sort of man who wants to be
let
win.” A small smile turned up her mouth. “We will see if he can manage to win by his own efforts.”

“You are playing a dangerous game.”

Katerina shrugged. “What else is there to do?” She toyed with the pieces, moving them against an invisible opponent. “On campaign we used to find khaja men for me to play, and others for an audience. They always wagered against me, because I was a woman. Mariya and I won a lot of coin that way, and some chickens, and trinkets, and even a slave once, a little girl whom we gave over into Mother Sakhalin’s care. So don’t think I don’t know how to play.”

“That isn’t the game Prince Janos is playing! He means to make you his mistress.”

“I’m not a fool. I can see that he desires me. But his mother has granted me sanctuary, so there is nothing he can do except try to win me in his crude way. Khaja men have no subtlety. Now can we talk of something else
besides
Prince Janos?”

Jaelle bowed her head obediently, but she was afraid now, more than ever, for herself and for Katerina.

Because of the prince’s unexpectedly late visit, Jaelle went late to the well. It was already dark. Two of the guards at the door propositioned her. As she waited at the well, she considered what they had suggested. Wouldn’t it be wise to store up some coin, a few useful items, against adversity? But there were few places where she could find privacy for that sort of thing. As she walked back past the great hall, a man called to her in a whisper from a shadowed corner of the outside wall.

“Jaelle!”

She knew that voice. She glanced around. Shadows had thrown the whole inner ward into gloom, and there were only a few people around. Lights bloomed in half of the great towers. The cold air chilled her hands where she gripped the metal handles of the buckets. Water sloshed out, dripping on her boots, as she hurried into the shadows.

“Stefan!” Warmth swept her, she was so happy to see him. She set down the buckets.

A moment later, he embraced her, surprising her with the strength of his greeting. He kissed her, swiftly, and she pressed against him for the comfort of it. He broke away, whispering apologies.

“Ah, gods, I beg your pardon, Jaelle. Please forgive me. I’ve been thinking of you constantly. Are you…well? Unharmed?”

“I am fed enough and left alone. But what of you, Stefan? Where are you? What has been done with you and the others? Princess Katherine—Katerina—speaks every day of wanting news of you, but she is allowed none, only assurance that Prince Vasil’ii is well.”

“Didn’t she see Ilya once?”

“Yes, but they could not speak together. Prince Janos remained with them the entire time.” He had taken two steps away from her. She closed the gap and set a hand on his arm, then laid her head against his chest. He stole an arm around her back and breathed into her hair. Unlike most men, his grasp was gentle. But she could feel in the way his body moved against her that he desired her body.

He whispered her name again and kissed her hair, wrenched himself away. “It’s no use. There isn’t time for this. Who knows when we’ll be able to meet this way again? Vasha is being held in the tower. There. It’s called the King’s Tower, and in the room beneath, his many soldiers are quartered. I sleep with him there. Ilya and Vladimir and Nikita and Mikhail are chained up at night down below, although sometimes Ilya is allowed to sleep in the solar, the room below Princess Rusudani’s chamber. That one, there, the tallest tower. Prince Janos has his own rooms, but I think he only uses those for speaking with his steward and others who come in about their business. Ilya says that every night Janos goes up to Rusudani’s chamber. Vladimir and Nikita serve the princess as well, carrying water and firewood, other chores. They are almost always with Ilya. Mikhail serves Vasha, as do I. Now tell all this to Katya, so she can be prepared.”

“Prepared for what?”

He lowered his voice even more, and she leaned closer to hear him. He smelled faintly sweet, especially against the dour odor of the stables. Jaran camps never smelled as rank as this castle. “For anything that might happen.”

“What of the other man? The other soldier?”

Stefan shook his head curtly. “Stanislav Vershinin, you mean. We lost him on the road. He couldn’t walk to keep up, so some of the guards sold him to a farmer for three chickens and some grain for their horses. But he’ll have an easier time escaping from there than we will from here.”

“If he lived.”

“He favored the leg more than it hurt him. He knew the risk he was taking. Someone had to try to escape to get the word back to the army.”

Voices sounded from the great hall. A lantern swayed to a slow pace as two guards came along the inner ward.

“Jaelle.” Her name was like a sigh of hope on Stefan’s voice. “If we escape, will you come with us?” He kissed her again. Then, the confession torn from him by the night air and the chance meeting, he said, “I love you.”

“Who’s there?” someone called.

“Where is that slave?”

He broke away, sidled farther into the shadow, and disappeared from her view. In a daze, she hoisted up the buckets and set off for the Widow’s Tower. Two guards hastened up.

“What happened to you?” they demanded.

“I lost my way.”

They escorted her back, and she lugged the buckets up the stairway, not noticing their weight. Setting them down inside the room, she just stood there.

“What’s wrong?” Katerina asked, coming over to her. She took one of Jaelle’s hands in her own, chafing it. “You’ve gone all pale.”

“I saw Stefan.”

“Stefan! How is he?” Light flared in Katerina, like hope leaping across a chasm to find a new home. “What did he have to tell you?”

Disjointedly, Jaelle relayed his news.

Katerina clapped her hands together. “You must try to meet him again. I’ll send you to the well tomorrow night at this time. Surely he’ll come again then, hoping to meet you.”

Surely he would. He had said that he loved her. “May I sit down, my lady?” she said weakly.

“What
is
wrong? You’ve not taken ill have you?” Katerina led her to a chair. “You mustn’t take ill, Jaelle. You’re all I have.”

You’re all I have.
“He said he loved me,” Jaelle whispered, then cursed herself for saying it.

“Oh, yes,” said Katerina blithely. “Stefan’s been pining after you for months. I would have thought you’d noticed it before. I thought you must not care for him, since you never asked him to become your lover.”

“A woman does not ask—What do you mean? You knew?”

“Stefan told me. We grew up together. We’re almost like cousins, really, although, well, he’s very sweet, Stefan, and he’ll become a great healer just like his grandfather Niko is, in time.”

It was too much. Jaelle began to cry quietly. “What does he have to gain by it?”

“Who?”

“Stefan. To say that he loves me.”

“He has nothing to gain by it! He just loves you, that’s all. Why is that so strange?”

Because no man had ever before said, ‘I love you.’ And truly, no one had ever said those words. No one, ever in her life.
She did not know what to think, what to say, what to do, what to feel. So, being practical, she wiped her cheeks dry and sniffed down the last few sobs.

“I beg your pardon, my lady.”

“Ah! You khaja are impossible. Here, we’ll heat some of that water and you can wash your—”

They both heard the footsteps coming up the stairs at the same time. Katerina pulled Jaelle to her feet and like comrades they turned together to face the door. Janos entered. He dismissed his two guards as soon as they had set a new flask of wine down on the table beside the board and set torches burning in the wall sconces.

“We will play again,” he announced, and sat down.

Katerina, amazingly, laughed and took her place. Janos made the first move. Katerina countered.

“You are a skilled player, Princess Katherine,” said the prince after a bit, “and bold, for a woman.”

“You are immodest, for a man, Prince Janos, and like most khaja men your brash manners have done nothing to improve your game.”

“We shall see whose game is stronger.”

It grew so quiet in the chamber that the pop of the fire was the loudest sound in the room, that and the faint jingle of Katerina’s bracelets and anklets and the tumble of wine into the cups as Janos poured, and poured again. He concentrated more on the game now, but after a time it became obvious even to Jaelle that Katerina was winning.

The princess sat back after she took his castle and tilted her chin back arrogantly. “If you would not drink so much, you would play better, Prince Janos. But I would still win.”

He jumped to his feet and scattered the pieces with a sweep of one hand. “It is not the wine that confuses me.” That quickly he circled the table and grabbed Katerina by the shoulders before she realized what was happening. “You are the most glorious woman I have ever seen.” Her mouth dropped open. She looked confounded. He pulled her to her feet and kissed her hard on the mouth.

She wedged her hands in between them and shoved him away, but he pulled her back into him. She jerked her head to one side so that his kiss touched her eye.

“How dare you! You swore to your mother that I would be treated with honor.”

He looked genuinely surprised. “I have treated you with honor! Be thankful I didn’t send you to my father.”

“And what might your father have done? Surely he would not have treated me this improperly.” She half twisted out of his grasp.

He let her go, and she staggered back, looking a little stunned. “I beg your pardon,” he said. “I forgot that you are an unmarried woman and not accustomed to a man’s advances.” Now he took her hands in his. “My father has a rare and terrible temper, Lady Katherine. You will do much better with me, although it’s true I can’t offer you marriage now that I am married to Princess Rusudani.” He looked over at Jaelle and signed to her to turn down the bed.

This speech had the effect of rendering Katerina speechless. She was, finally, beginning to look nervous.

“Our children will be raised as if they were legitimate, and since any sons I have by Rusudani will inherit her portion, there is no reason I can’t settle some of the lands and vassalage I received through my mother onto the sons you bear.”

The truth was, Jaelle thought, that Katerina appeared struck dumb, as if she simply could not comprehend what he was saying to her. It was an incredibly generous settlement, although, of course, words meant nothing. A pragmatic woman at this point would demand that he set down these promises in writing, so that she could hold him to them should his infatuation wane. She wanted to tell Katerina so but dared not speak.

He took Katerina’s silence for assent and bent to kiss her.

She elbowed him hard in the stomach and tore away from him. “I have not given you permission to touch me!”

Gasping for breath, he straightened up. “I don’t need permission! You are my concubine now.”

“I am not a concubine. You will leave my tent—my chamber—now. I wish to see no more of you tonight.”

“
You
wish—” He grasped her elbows and dragged her toward the bed, while she kicked at his legs, pulled free, only to have him wrestle her down onto the coverlet. She was strong, but not as strong as he was.

“Jaelle!” she called, as if expecting Jaelle to aid her.

Janos stood, one knee on the bed, pressing her down, but he looked up and found Jaelle, who stood immobile by the fire. It took only a glimpse of his face to see that he was headed into a rare fury. “Go!”

Jaelle fled the room.

Just as she reached the lower landing she heard a crash, and she flinched as if she had been hit. She ran back up the stairs but halted on the landing. Through the closed door she listened, feeling sick inside. Grunts, a hollow thud, a woman’s gasp; he cursed; something banged loudly to the floor. The unmistakable crack of a slap to the face. Katerina swore at him in labored gasps. Fabric ripped. Something was dragged over the floor, followed by another thud, and then Janos swore again, sounding even angrier.

The struggle went on and on and on. Why didn’t she just give in? How could she be so foolish? Janos wanted to treat her well, that was clear; Jaelle knew that his offer was unbelievably lavish, torn from him no doubt by his desire for her and, as it was with so many men, the ridiculous belief that the one thing he could not have was worth more than the treasures he held in his hands.